


Another Kind of Friday Date Night

by Always_Bottom_Derek



Series: Sweetness and Scars [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And Fluff., Attempt at Healthy Relationship..., Bottom Derek Hale, Derek Hale & Sheriff Stilinski Bonding, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Kind of a Flirt in This, M/M, No Sterek Here, Only Every Now and Then, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, So much talking, This May Kill Me, Ugh... Too Many Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Bottom_Derek/pseuds/Always_Bottom_Derek
Summary: The Sheriff and Derek have been sneaking around fucking each other in secret for about eight months.Even if it means they are coming at their relationship ass backward (pun intended), John has decided he wants to move their arrangement into something a little more"respectable." So he asks Derek out on their first "official" date.The rest you'll have to read for yourself.





	Another Kind of Friday Date Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Benn_Xavier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benn_Xavier/gifts).



> You may be familiar with the Cheating Derek Verse and the ficlets "Friday Date Night" and "Post Friday Night Date Night."
> 
> This is so far from that world it isn't even funny... 
> 
> However, I promise I will do my best to at least try and bring out some of Derek's inner slut before this fic is over.

It was Friday night. Just about to head out the front door, John was reaching for his wallet and keys on the hall bureau when a hail sounded from the living room.

“Hey pop, where are you going?”

The sheriff gave a silent groan. His plans of a quiet exit thwarted, he backed up so he was visible in the door frame that led to where his beloved son laid stretched out on the living room couch. Dressed in his usual flannel and a pair of sweats, game controller in hand, and surrounded by bags and boxes of junkfood portending significant caloric carnage, it was clear Stiles intended to spend his Friday night in.

“I’m going out. Heading to McDool’s to have a beer with some of the guys. Maybe play some pool.”

Stiles stared at him and frowned. Clearly whatever he saw bothered him enough to pause his game and prop himself up on a bony elbow.

“You’re gonna wear that shirt? To go play pool with the guys?” 

John brushed his hands down the front of his chest, suddenly flustered. “What’s wrong with it? It’s a nice shirt.”

“It is…” Stiles agreed, his eyes going squinty in the way they did when he was trying to figure something out. “Too nice for beer with the guys… And I don’t remember seeing it before. Is it new?

“What are you getting up to, old man?”

“Nothing. And knock it off with that ‘old man’ crap; I’m not that ancient.” John hoped his voice had just the right amount of huff. “I just didn’t have anything else clean, since apparently the Stilinski laundry service is on strike again.”

It wasn’t a total lie and his crack had the desired effect as Stiles shrank back into the cushions looking mildly convicted. He should have, since their laundry was on his chore list.

“Busy week at school,” Stiles mumbled. “I’ll start a load before Scott comes over.”

John tried not to sigh at the fact he seemed to have one of the few teenagers in Beacon Hills with no desire for any real kind of social life. “You do that.”

Further inquiry averted, he retreated before teen Sherlock Stilinski could make any more uncomfortable observations.

This time he was almost out the door when Stiles stopped him again. Up off the couch and standing there in the hall, his son had that sly look in his eyes that reminded John way too much of the boy’s mother.

“Or should Scott and I go out? So you have the house to yourself after your...” His tone far too probing, Stiles made finger quotes, ‘ _beer with the guys’_?”

John shrugged.

“Up to you, kid.” The words were said with a nonchalance he didn’t feel at all as he headed outside leaving his son to wonder behind him.

Climbing into his car, John wondered himself when his skill in distracting his spawn had started to slip. Seeing Stiles peep out at him through the blinds as he backed his car out of the drive, he also found himself trying to figure out just when Stiles had become the parent and him the evasive teenager sneaking off to engage with questionable characters.

* * *

The questionable character he had snuck off to see was leaning casually against his black Camaro when he pulled into McDool’s parking lot.

In his ass gripping jeans and black leather jacket, as usual, Derek looked like stud on a stick. John’s mouth filled with spit and the desire to lick him all over. Instead, he parked his car alongside Derek’s and popped out.

“Evening, Sheriff.”

Nothing in Derek’s posture shifted, even his scowl stayed the same. But John knew him well enough now to recognize the little gleam in his eyes that meant Derek was happy to see him. He gave him a crisp nod and gruffed.

“Evening, Hale. You ready to get your ass whipped at the pool table?”

Derek’s eyes widened and the left corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. “Oh, I’m going to win tonight.”

As John pushed past him, Derek continued in a voice so low none of the other human patrons ambling into the bar could hear, “doesn’t mean you might not still get to whip my ass later.”

A soft grunt was the only sign John gave that he’d heard this. Hitching his jean jacket up on his shoulders he headed into the tavern. “Best we get a move on then, before all the tables are taken.”

Fortunately it was early enough the bar wasn’t too crowded and of the three billard’s stations McDool’s offered, his favorite table was open.

He tried not to stare when Derek sloughed out of his leather jacket and hung it on an empty chair. He wore a wine-red Henley that hugged his muscled chest and did amazing things to his coloring. In particular, the deep-red made Derek’s large green eyes pop.

There was a flicker in Derek’s verdant gaze that let John know his looking had been pleasingly noted. He didn’t acknowledge this though as he stripped off his own jacket at set it atop Derek’s. Leaving their coats in material coitus he stepped over to the table to watch Derek rack their balls.

“Nice shirt, Sheriff,” Derek offered, though his eyes didn’t leave the table, making it apparent to John that he wasn’t the only one looking this evening.

“Too nice?” For the second time in less than thirty minutes his hands swept down the front of his shirt.

Derek smirked and stood, acknowledging why they were there together, “For pool? Or a date?”

“Both, smart-ass.”

The butterflies that had plagued John since after their last fuck, when he’d first asked Derek out on a 'real date', began flapping their wings in his belly once more.

Outside Melissa, he hadn’t gone out with anyone since Claudia, and certainly never with another fella. This was all new territory for him.

Thankfully, Derek decided to show some mercy, easing him into whatever it was they were getting into with a rare smile. The flash of his endearingly bunny-ish front teeth made John’s heart beat a little faster.

“I think the shirt suits you. You look good.”

The way Derek’s eyes roved over him and the barely disguised heat John saw in them made him want to bend Derek over the pool table and fuck him right there. Reigning in his lust, instead he just grunted and asked what he wanted to drink, knowing already alcohol would have little effect on the wolf.

“Beer. Something dark.”

John nodded and headed off to the bar, Derek’s first shot, breaking the rack, cracked loud behind him.

* * *

For all his worries about how awkward their first date might be, once their game got underway, John’s anxiety quickly dissipated. Derek turned out to be as adept at pool as he was at fucking and their friendly game soon became as heated as their secret fleshly tussles.

What was different from their other ‘encounters’ however, was Derek’s playful attitude and the easy teasing banter that quickly bubbled between them. As they called shots and heckled each other John felt all his internal knots easing. He wondered how he could coax Derek into being more like this when they fucked.

Their competition was fierce, he took the first game, Derek the second. The sheriff eked out a narrow victory in their third and final game after Derek botched what should have been an easy shot.

Once they turned over the table to a new set of players they went into the dining area. As each slid into opposite sides of an open booth John commented, “You know you’re not going to curry any favors with me. Letting me win like that.”

Derek settled into his bench, stretching his muscled arms out over the booth’s low back and looking so innocent it should have been illegal.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

John snorted as he took the menu from Sandy, McDool’s oldest waitress, and ordered him and Derek both another beer. “Come on… that shot you missed.”

Dark brows rose in a “what can I say?” expression and Derek shrugged.

John was immensely grateful Sandy had left their table when Derek followed this leaning in to say, “accidents like that happen when you have someone standing across the table distracting you, looking so sexy in his _pool-slash-date_ shirt.”

“Enough about the shirt…” John growled, though there wasn’t any heat in it. He dropped his eyes down to the menu to hide his embarrassment.

Derek’s directness was so different from the women he had dated it took some getting used to. Though, truth be told, having someone as hot as Derek Hale call him sexy weighted his balls with want and turned the blood in his cock molten.

“Besides, that’s a poor excuse.”

“Oh?”

“Ummm,” John nodded as he scanned the menu whose every offering would have sent Stiles into father-heart-health convulsions.

“After all, I was faced with the very same situation and I seemed to be able to pull off all my shots just fine.” He looked up and smirked, pleased to see Derek’s cheeks pinking beneath his scruff at his roundabout compliment.

Derek eventually offered him another broad shouldered shrug. “That’s why you’re the sheriff, I guess. Able to keep cool in tough spots. That power of concentration. Gives you that extra bit of endurance it all sorts of ‘tight’ situations. _Even if it’s just a ball in a hole_.”

Even without all the double talk the gleam in Derek’s eyes told John exactly what the younger man was thinking about.

“Shut up, Hale,” he grinned, “And tell me what you’re gonna order.”

* * *

When Sandy finally brought their food, John audibly groaned in delight just at the visuals of his double bacon cheeseburger, beer battered onion rings, and McDool’s signature coleslaw drenched in their mayo-rich sauce.

“You’re a bad influence.” He picked up his burger, loving the way the grease had already soaked through its paper wrapper and made his fingers feel slick. “Tell you what, this doesn’t kill me, Stiles will if he finds out.”

Derek snorted at this as he picked up an onion ring from his identical order. “I’ll let  him know your heart sounds like it’s in excellent health. He should stop worrying.”

“You can tell that?”

Mouth full, Derek nodded and once he could speak again added. “The way it sounds right now it’s good for another twenty years, at least. ”

“Well maybe I’ll have to keep you around, so you can let me know if that changes...” John stopped. Although they’d already been sneaking around fucking each other for about eight months, he realized what he’d just said sounded like an invitation to some kind of more permanent arrangement.

Derek seemed to immediately pick up on his discomfort and offered a little too casually, “Told you already, Sheriff, you got me as long as you want.”

It was meant to diffuse through good-natured humor John knew, but it only increased his unease, understanding in this moment whatever was going on between them, he didn’t want it to be all his decision. He also didn’t want their ‘arrangement’ to be something Derek could let go of so quickly.

“What do _you_ want though, Derek?”

Derek’s smile slipped at the question and the use of the name usually reserved for their intimacy. He frowned and pulled a small flask from his coat, now laying on the bench beside him. John watched as he poured a shot of wolfbane into his remaining beer.

The Sheriff waited. If nothing else his experience in law enforcement, and having Stiles for a son, had taught him the value of patience.

Derek took a few deep drinks of his spiked brew and fiddled with his remaining onion rings. “I generally just find it’s easier not to want things…” The fingers of his right hand traced the rings on the dark wood left by his glass. “Causes fewer problems that way.”

“Hmmm…” There was a world of pain contained in this concise confession and it made John’s heart ache. “Maybe, you’re right.” He waited for Derek to look up at him again.“But it seems to me a life lived without wanting anything isn’t much of a life.”

When he saw the hurt flash in Derek’s eyes he soothed, “Hey… no judgment. I’m just saying that from my own experience. I’ve loved, lost, and shut down. Just started wanting again recently myself.”

Now it was his turn to look away. “It’s unwieldy, for sure. Overwhelming sometimes. But I haven’t felt so alive for a long time.” John cleared his throat. “It feels good. Real good.” His head popped back up when he heard Derek’s low words across the table.

“I want this.”

 _The fucking or the dating?_ flashed through John’s mind.

“All of it.” Derek spoke like he’d just read his thoughts. The soft growl in the words made John’s heart beat faster. Blood pulsed into his cock.

“I was…” Derek’s quick glance around the bar was a reminder that the venue for their conversation was more than a little risky. “I was glad when you asked me out. But to be honest, I was a little worried too.”

Surprised by this admission John stayed quiet.

“I mean, you’re kind of old school. I was half expecting you to suggest a candlelight dinner and show up at my door with flowers.”  Derek barked out a laugh when these words set the sheriff furiously blushing. “You were! I knew it!”

“I might have run through a few possible scenarios.” John admitted, his face still hot. But it was worth it to hear Derek’s chuckle.“But since I’m new at this,” he gestured back and forth between them, meaning the guy/guy thing, “I thought maybe we should start casual.”

He leaned back and took a draught of his beer suddenly feeling the need for some bolstering. “But… just to be clear… Are you telling me that would’ve turned you off?”

Now it was Derek’s turn to blush. John secretly loved how red the tips of the younger man’s ears got when he was fired up or embarrassed. They were bright pink now, even in the tavern’s dim light.

“No. Not at all.” Derek’s flask came out again. “I haven’t done much of this either. Dating, I mean… Not with anyone, really.

“But this is good. The pool. The burgers. Besides I don’t... “ Derek stopped himself with a shake of his dark head. “No. This is good. I like it.”

John didn’t need to be a mind reader to know the content of Derek’s unfinished sentence. He’d spent enough time around him now and was sure it would have boiled down somehow to ‘I don’t deserve that kind of treatment.’

All that did was convince him, old school or not, that Derek Hale had a fancy restaurant dinner coming up in his near future.

“So what’s your favorite flower?” John asked around a bite of his burger.

It was fun the way Derek’s brows shot up in surprise at the question. “What?”

“Flower. Favorite? So I know what to get some night, when I show up at your door to sweep you off your feet.”

Derek laughed again until he realized the question was serious.

“Uh… moonflower… I guess.” Derek’s blush was dripping down his neck at this point, coming in a close match to his shirt.

“I know it’s kind of hokey given what I am and all.” There was another shrug of broad shoulders. “They’re called devil’s snare too sometimes. They have some potent chemicals in them. Used to be used by native Shaman in this state in rituals to call up animal spirit helpers.

“But I like them mostly because they bloom in the dark.”

Clearly uncomfortable talking about this, Derek turned the question back. “What about you?”

“Huh… Never really thought about it.” John cast his mind back trying to find a flower he didn’t associate with Claudia somehow and landed on what seemed like the perfect choice.

“You know those purple wildflowers that grow along the side of the road. Sky lupine, I think they’re called.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, we have a ton of those on the preserve. They grow on a single stalk. Right? Multiple blooms. Sometimes all one color sometimes a couple shades.

“Yeah. Those. I’m always happy to see them out on patrol, along the highways. They bloom early, and when they come back for the first time each year, I guess I just always feel kind of relieved. Because I know winter is over.”

John looked up and saw Derek had pulled out a new smile for this conversation. It was small but warm and did something magical to his eyes. The Sheriff knew the reason: they were sharing about more than just a simple blossom, each of their choices significant to their lives.

“Look at us. A couple of poets at heart, I guess.”  He rumbled signalling an end to the subject. After this things fell silent between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Eventually quiet comments between them about how good the burgers were started to flow and soon they shared a couple coded ribbing jokes about them both having onions and how this might “flavor” their evening later.

* * *

Eventually when real conversation resumed, Derek talked with some excitement about an application  he’d put in with a local forestry department for a ranger’s position. It made John feel proud for him and relieved that the younger man was making an effort to engage in some meaningful pursuit.

He was old school in that regard too he supposed, believing that the measure of a man was still taken in no small part by what he put out in the world.

They were almost through their meal when Parrish stopped by their booth. Being Friday, Jordan had two other junior deputies with him, Kyle and Jesse. It was Derek who invited them in their booth. Something that left the Sheriff feeling oddly pleased.

The next hour was spent in friendly banter and heated debate that covered everything from fishing, to politics, to sports. John felt another new and funny swell of pride when Derek’s knowledge of baseball stats prove to be even more encyclopedic than Jordan’s.

When Kyle and Jesse had to leave to get home to their families, Derek and John decided to pack it in for the night too. Jordan followed. Once the three deputies left they were left alone again in the lot at their cars.

“Do you want to call it a night for real?”

John’s heart always twinged at the vulnerability that wicked into Derek’s voice no matter how cavalier he tried to sound.

“Not really.” Two words, but they immediately had Derek perking up. “Do you want to go to your loft?”

Derek’s expression was pained. “Can’t. Isaac is staying with me for a few days. He’s been having a hard time of it again.”

John nodded his face pulled in a grim smile thinking about everything the Lahey kid had been through. Still, warmth bloomed in his chest again for the way Derek had taken Isaac under his wing.

“We could go to the motel,” Derek suggested.

It was tempting, Lord knew John had been aching to fuck Derek all night. But as much as he reveled in those hotel hours, they always left him feeling slightly sordid afterwards and he wanted everything about tonight to be fresh, a clean slate they could move forward from.

He shook his head. Seeing the furrows in Derek’s forehead he explained, “Doesn’t seem right for a first date.”

Derek’s brow immediately smoothed and he smirked. “See… Old school.

“So what do you suggest then?”

John was sort of stumped. It was too dark to see for a traipse into the woods, really, (for him at least). And they were too old to go park and make out like a couple teenagers. Besides, first date and all, he was trying to keep a rein on his libido.

He was saved from having to admit to any of this however by the buzz of his cell phone. Opening it up he saw his too clever son had sent him a text.

_Hey pop… just in case you want to bring your ‘pool buddies’ over, scott and i are going to catch a late movie. Won’t be back til after midnight. Or let me know and I can spend the night at his house._

“Everything okay?”

John looked up to see Derek watching him closely, likely wondering if something had come up at the station. He snapped his old flip phone closed and shook his head. “Yeah, outside of having a know-it-all for a son.”

Derek’s expression lightened considerably. “So nothing new then?”

“Yeah, exactly.” There was no holding back his chuckle as the sheriff pocketed his phone. “So Stiles is out of the house for the evening. You want to come over to my place?”

God, Derek was a heartbreaker when he smiled.

“Yeah, sure. It’d be nice to visit when I didn’t have to crawl through a window. I’ll follow you then?”

John nodded and opened his car door. “Sounds good. Just try not to ride my tail to much on the way over, huh?”

Derek’s grin grew wider and he winked before he slid into his Camaro. “Think I’ll leave all the ‘tail riding’ to you, Sheriff.”

John slipped into his own vehicle, cheeks hot, heart thumping, and dick half-hard. It was going to be a long ride home.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... Fluff. So much fluff...
> 
> Once again, I hold my Bottom Derek cohort Benn_Xavier accountable for this sweetness. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
